Evangeline
by Slytherin at Heart1025
Summary: Sherlock never thought about that day much anymore. In fact he thought about it near as often as one thinks about breathing. Never in a million years would he have thought that the result of that day would show up on his doorstep nearly sixteen years later. (Sherlock is about 37 or 38 years old) Slightly different then the series. Deal with it.
1. New Assistant

The room was fairly mundane, nothing special and rather cluttered. Its black and white wallpaper was out of date and beginning to yellow with age and cigarette smoke. The furniture didn't match except that it was all well worn. The smell of tobacco and tea hung in the air. Papers and books and science equipment were scattered throughout the room on every surface. But there was a certain comfort that permeated the room as you entered. A feeling of coming home.

The ordinary visual aspect of the room hid the remarkableness of its occupant. A tall, slender man that stood alone by the far window. And even though he looked as workaday as anyone on the street, his eyes sparked with a knowledge only few understood.

The man stood as still as a statue, glaring out the window into the gloomy London sky. His shoulders hunched ever so slightly and his fists clenched at his sides. His chocolate curls sat messily on his head, hanging in his stormy blue eyes. His clothes were of a decent quality, his plum colored button down shirt fitted his body perfectly although it was slightly mussed and haphazardly tucked into his wrinkled charcoal trousers. His shoes were scuffed and worn, clearly a favorite pair.

A knock sounded on the door and the man snapped his head to look as an elderly woman with short cropped hair entered, leading a young woman behind her. The man's steely eyes scanned the new comers quickly before turning to look back out his window.

"A client, Sherlock," the older woman spoke up, her voice light and wavering.

"Ms. Hudson, the dishes from my supper are in the sink," the man spoke in a deep baritone.

"Not your housekeeper, dearie," Ms. Hudson replied in a manner that spoke of having repeated herself more then once. Ms. Hudson nodded to a chair in front one of the desks, motioning for the younger woman to have a seat. The younger smiled in thanks before removing her long peacoat and sitting. Ms. Hudson bustled over to the adjoining kitchen, setting a kettle on the stove to boil for tea.

"Sherlock!" Ms. Hudson scolded as she came back carrying a tray and seeing that the man had yet to move or acknowledge his client. Sherlock huffed and turned to glance over the girl once more.

"What do you want?" Sherlock spoke with a sharp tone, as if annoyed. The young woman didn't flinch and stared him down. Her gave him a once over before standing and approaching him.

"My name's Evangeline," she spoke confidently as she thrust her hand out to shake. Sherlock raised a brow but took her hand. "I'm looking for work. Detective work. And you're the best there is. I want you to be my mentor."

Sherlock furrowed his brow as he studied the girl's face. _She was about sixteen years of age, boarding school from the looks of her posture, her hands were soft but there was a layer of dirt under a few of the nails. Her makeup was smudged, her thick brown hair in an untidy bunch at the back of her head. She had a smear of graphite high across her left cheekbone. Her eyes were bright, attentive, and piercingly grey. She was tall for her age, and had a runner's build._

"I am not looking for assistance at the moment. Come again later," Sherlock began to turn away but Evangeline spoke up.

"Really? You hate to clean, obviously, this room is a mess. You've been wearing the clothes for the last . . . three days judging by the smell, and the coffee stain on your left pant leg. Although you have showered recently, last night, I assume. You just haven't done laundry. You have four- sorry, five- cases that you're currently working at this moment. By the way on the missing persons case, it was the boyfriend. He and the victim, his girlfriend, had this planned to get her out of her parents house before they discovered she was pregnant. You need to learn not to leave your laptop and case files sitting out and open." The young brunette crossed her arms over her chest in an indignant manner, her chin raised defiantly.

Sherlock stared at the girl, his eyebrows raised and the corner of his mouth quirked up in an amused smirk.

"Very well. I suppose I could use some assistance. You start tomorrow, seven am sharp," Sherlock finally answered, turning to shut his laptop and close the manila folder with the missing girl's picture on top.

"See you then," Evangeline nodded to Sherlock, smiling smugly, before tossing her coat over her arm and making her way down the stairs to the door. Sherlock listened as Ms. Hudson wished her farewell then the click of the door. He looked out his window to see her hail a cab. As she climbed into her taxi, she glanced up to his window and waved. Then she was gone.


	2. Shocked

"You're late."

"Am not. It's seven just now."

"You arrived precisely six point three seconds after seven."

"Oh, bloody hell," Evangeline sighed, shaking her head.

The duo once again stood in the cluttered mess of Sherlock's living room. Evangeline stood with her hands on her hips, clearly agitated. Her chestnut hair hung in untidy wet waves around her face and shoulders. Her clothes were damp from the rain that was currently pelting the roof of 221B Baker Street. Sherlock turned away with a disgruntled huff, returning to his work.

"Would you dry off already? You're dripping on the carpet," Sherlock glanced in disgust at the soggy state of his new companion. Evangeline snorted and flung herself into the nearest armchair, shaking out her hair and flinging water across the various stacks of paper and books that blanketed the floor. Sherlock nearly screamed in frustration. The tension in the room was almost palpable. A noise by the stairs made the duo jerk out of their glaring contest. Ms. Hudson climbed the stairs muttering about old bones and rain.

"Oh hello, deary. I wasn't expecting you to return so soon, or so early," the elderly woman smiled kindly at the newest addition to their apartment. Evangeline nodded politely in return and turned back to Sherlock.

"What case are we working on?" she asked brusquely. Sherlock's shrewd eyes studied her for a moment before tossing a file folder into her lap. She opened it, scanning quickly through the mess of papers. She studied the picture of the young man who had been murdered in an alley. The gun held only the victim's prints. But having read Sherlock's case file, Evangeline knew that even though everything pointed to a suicide, Sherlock would not have accepted the case if it was so easy.

"So what are the leads?" she inquired. "It obviously wasn't a suicide."

"And how is that obvious?"

"You wouldn't have taken on another case if it was so simple. You like the hard to crack cases. Or the serial killers. Anything interesting. A suicide isn't any of that."

Sherlock looked at her carefully.

"I see you did your homework on me then," he stated. He raised an eyebrow.

"It's not hard to figure that out. You like a challenge."

Mrs. Hudson chuckled softly to herself as the two studied each other. It was like watching a younger female version of Sherlock. The thought made the elderly woman stop short. Oh bloody hell... Two of him? The world would end. It was bad enough with just the two brothers, Sherlock and Mycroft. Another Holmes was like something out of a horror film.

Sherlock and Evangeline had moved on to discuss the case concluding that the killer was most likely the victim's jealous wife who he had left for a younger woman and leaving her next to nothing in the divorce.

"Lestrade, go visit the victim's ex wife. You should find your killer," Sherlock hung up the phone. "Evangeline, I have to sa-"

"Eva."

"I'm sorry?"

"You can call me Eva. Much easier to say then Evangeline."

"Eva... I have to say, for one so young your skills are much better then most adults. You're not a complete imbecile," Sherlock nodded in acknowledgment.

"Thank you."

"Why did you come to me?"

"Because you knew my mother."

"Your mother? I think I would have made the connection-"

"Amelia Belle Rook."

Sherlock started to shake his head before he froze, gaping at Eva. He stumbled back a step.

"No..."

"Yes."

"But that would mean..."

"Yes."

Sherlock stared at her as Eva stood still, keeping calm.

"But that-"

"-Would mean I'm your daughter."

Sherlock blinked. _This wasn't happening_. He stood still frozen to the floor. _This wasn't happening_. He looked the girl over. _This wasn't happening._ Evangeline stood still as a statue. _This wasn't happening._ The lights dimmed and flickered. _This wasn't happening._ The floor rushed up to meet him. _This wasn't happening._ Everything faded to black. _This wasn't happening..._


End file.
